10
THE COURIER,
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ADDITIONAL CLUBS
The Ashland Woman's club entertain
ed the members of tbe Plattsmouth and
Weeping Water clubs Thursday. May 12.
The interchange ot courtesies between
these three clubs has become a source of
great pleasure to all tbe clubs. Last
year they met at FJattsmouth, and many
old friendships were renewed Thursday.
The thirty guests were met at the train
by the club's president, Mrs. Fales and
Mrs, Hicks. In tbe afternoon from 3 to
5 a charming reception was held at the
home of Mrs. narnsberger. The house
was artistically decorated with the club
colors, violet and pink, draperies of both
colors being drawn from the chandelier
in the library to the corners of the room.
Beneath this canopy the speakers lat
er stood, surrounded by masses of pink
roses and lilacs. In the dining room a
beautiful flag extended across one side.
Mrs. Harnsberger was a.sisted in receiv
ing by Meedamee Wiggenhorn, Pales
and Shedd. Miss Dora Wiggenhorn, as
sisted by several young ladies in pretty
light dresses, served in the dining room
About eighty people, including the
club's forty members, enjoyed the warm
hospitality bo generously extended.
In the evening the same company met
once more at tho same beautiful home,
and this time felt acquainted with all.
Pretty programs were distributed,
bearing on their face the charming wel
come from Cmolanue:
"A sssadred tho1" welcomes I could
weep,
AsaUcotddlatsgh. I am light, and heavy,
welcome
A csne begin at every root of fast heart.
That act glad to see theel "
The Ashland club may well be proud
of the dignity of the presiding officer
The cordiality and sincerity of her few
words of welcome were but the expres
sion or the true spirit of hospitality
already experienced in a more practical
form by the visitors. Mrs. Davis respond
ed gracefully for the clubs of Platts
mouth. Each club was represented on
the program. A discussion of fifteen
minutes was allowed after the first paper,
"the punishment of children" by Mrs.
Parmale of Plattsmouth. In fact the
interest in the subject became so great,
and speakers so ready, to speak .and
bright in personal reminiscences, that
the one topic could easily have occupied
the evening. One advocate of corporal
punishment advocated a peach tree
switch. She said she realized that those
trees were scarce nowadays, but in her
childhood, a fiouishicg peach tree existed
at her home, which gradually shrunk
away while leaving marked benefits in
her temper. Mrs. Murtey and Mrs
Travis both discussed tbe club question
with its power for brightening and en
nobling tbe lives of women. The topics
while similar, were treated quite dif
ferently Mrs. Ingerso'.l, president of
the Zetetic rlub, gave an interesting re
view of the Beth Book. Even those who
had sot read the book obtained a fair
knowledge of its plot and object.
Mis. Laverty of Ashland foretold the
attractions o be expected at Omaha
this summer and the beauty of the
buildings and surroundings.
Two musical numbers, a rippling
piano number, by Mrs. Steele, and Den
sa'sMay Morning, by Mks Patterson,
complected the program. Together the
assembled club women sang together the
stirriBg strains of America, and parted
for the night. Friday morning all met
together at tte train, with grateful
adieus and hopes of another reunion.
"Lester dear," said Mrs. Giddings,
anxiously to her husband, "I don't like
that cough of yours."
-rsa sorry," replied G-ddmgs, "but it
is the best I have."
A inner in Bohemia. .
On Easter eve, after the odds and sods
of shopping were done, the young author
and Florita decided to dine in Bohemia.
They crossed the town toward tbe east.
A Hungarian orchestra, inaudible
while they were carried along the street
by the rush of the rude north wind,
whirled them into its warmer and not
less wild embrace when they opened the
street door of the cafe. The house had
been a magnificent old family mansion
in its day.
"Well, let's begin with oysters," shout
ed the Author to Florita above the din
of elates and music and talk.
"What! in Bohemia?"
"Ob, they want to please all kindb of
people. You may have a gulyas next,
and oe Hungarian, if you like. A cock
tail and oysters for two. There's Good
hue the publisher, the one who rejected
my last story. Do you see? With that
brilliant-haired man. I wonder who he
is?"
"He looks as brilliant as his hair."
"If be were very clever, he'd peroxide
his fiery crimps."
The guests of such retorts include
those who le-d themselves or tbe time,
to a pretence of identical tolerance, be
it some grim seeker for brutal truth, or
the woman of society who writes in
gloves. All seem to consent to forego
rigid conventionality; the obscure or the.
pious, sincere or trifling; the epicurean
dilettante, or the woman of half-the-woVld,
and take their places beside the
musician or the artist, and, it may hap
pen, beside his wife.
The music stopped and the oysters were
served with tiny time-worn trident forks.
After the very brief period needed to
consume this course, the Author noticed
a charming face vis-a-vis, set off by the
white marble of the elaborately carved
mantel. He gazed meditatively. Florita
glanced about.
"Do you like that shade of rose around
her neck?" ehe asked.
"Charming!"
"I bought some velvet of that same
color today. They call it cerise. How
white it makes her look!"
"Reminds me of those red guillotine
collars they wore in the reign of terror.
Do you think she's pretty?"
"Well, rather. He's good looking, don't
you think? '
"Oh, not over. How much in love he
seems."
"Did you eee her put her hand on his
shoulder? Is that champagne?"
"Yes. Now let's try every course, 8Ld
try all the dishes we don't know. Wait
er, Eiergerstel, for two!"
A Bohemian in New York may be any
one from a man of the world who has sn
artistic bias, to the foreign beggar, try
ing to live by his brush or pen. The
opulent publisher may hide threadbare
ideals by the side of a Bohemian Jew,
who lavishes his rich store of life on
romance.
"Whata medley!"
"Yes, there's a medley in that one
crowd next to us. Newspaper men, they
are mostly. I don't know just what set.
They seem to be giving a dinner to tbe
blondisb artist with a beard, whom one
would swear to be a doctor."
"I wonder why art and medical stu
dent look so much alike, sometimes?"
"Brutal experiences, probably."
"Dealing with flesh, perhaps! What a
noise those reporters make over their
artist!"
"No, I have it! That's the fellow who
has just brought out a pathological
study he calls a novel. True scientific
method. No gloves, no phrases, all para
graphs." An eager talker whose deep-eet eyes
were near together, was declaiming sea
stories more and more loudly. The
table of young men was convulsed.
Florita could have reached out her hand
ind toothed the narrator, he was to
near.
"The captain had to put all the pas
sengers in the bold! The men had to
use marlinspikee byG d!"
"When he talks about marlinapikes, I
know he's romancing," remarked the
Author.
"Who is that great man with the
shaggy black beard? He seems to be
interested in me."
"Oh, he is an anarchist, 1 take it. No
tice the big, leonine fellow who has just
come in. He is a new dramatist; and
the fat, grey-haired boy with him, is
talking over something of importance.
Probably wants the leading part in the
new play. . . .She looks at me so often, I
think she's quite taken, Florita."
"Nonsense! Her companion is a very
attractive man."
"He! Stupid and heavy, I think!"
"Yes, heavy, but that is not bad. He
is not so much in love as she is."
"He doesn't know how to behave!
With such a charming woman he should
try to be more entertaining."
"She doesn't give him a chance."
"What enormouB haads he has, and
see those pink cuffs!"
"Her hands are too small."
"But very white, and her face too."
"It's that pink collar. I wish you
would look at me now and Jhen. Just
for appearances, you know. Pretend you
are a little interested!"
"Madame, I am at your service!"
"The captain stayed on the bridge all.
night, on my life! The whole damned
crew were frightened to death!" shouted
the man at the next table. His audience
had dwindled to one who had the mis
fortune to be wedged in between him
and the wall.
"And is this gulyas? Why didn't you
tell me it was nothing but a ragout?"
"I thought you wouldn't like it. Try
some Rind-burst with prunellen?"
"No more experiments, please. I will
wait for the chicken and paprika."
"Well, I shall experiment with this
Hungarian 'mastica,' said to be very
intoxicating. Now that cymbale marks
the waltz time; should you say Strauss?"
"Viennese, surely. But the cymbale
never marks time. Jt is the base viol.
Don't you hear that throb, at the first
beat of the measure?"
"The cymbale seemB to me to give the
rhythm. It is so light, bo graceful."
"Hike the great viol better. It is
more virile."
"The delicacy of the cymbale appeals
to me. If I were a girl I would fall in
lore with the cymbale player."
"A man is no judge of what type of
man a woman will like; your charmer is
growing livelier."
"Too much champagne. I wonder
how he likes that?"
"He is becoming absolutely station
ary.". "I believe she is older than he is. She
has a small hint of a double chin."
"Oh, those soft, white women have
that in youth. He is certainly compos
ed. And he looks strong."
"I could easily do him up!"
"My dear, I shouldn't like to see you
try. He is a tall and heavy man."
"I could down him in one blow."
"You conldn't! Look at the size of
his hands, and his determined chin."
"I could get the better of him in ten
minutes!"
The violin wailed forth in a long
drawn breath of the music of Hungary,
and tbe cymbale crossed it with a down
sweep of its resounding strirgs. The
viol groaned passionately, and there was
a melodious blur of sound, suddenly
resolving itself into a curious little turn
which in such music precede a final
chord
"Check, waiter," said the Author. He
drained the thick, brown drops of masti
ca. "Ask him for finger bowls, as an ex
periment," said Florita.
The couple by the fire place looked
toward them when they rose with free
glances of casual interest; the acarchist
turaed a brave stare; a pretty, painted
Jewess, in pearl-grey feathers, pertly
scrutinized Florita'a tailor made go wa as
she and the Author went out buoyantly
toward home and the spring time.
Florence Emerson.
DAWN ON THE PLAINS.
A vajt ufpwivc silence,
deep as death,
The sky above, faiat
tfriakkdwkhafew
Dim fading stars,
that feebly flicker, like
A firefly m the early
evening dew.
A dusKy darkness - ;-
over ill toe plain;
The maty distances
unending Be,
The zravith shadows
rf the mght-kissed land
Are woven with the
shadows of the sky.
When k) I a sudden
glory floods the east,
The curtain of the night , 4 ..
is rent in twain ;,
Like the veil that parted '' '-';
in the holy place,
When on calvary,
the lamb of God was slain,
And to the east the tossing
plumes of mora
Are shaking splendors
through the pearly sky;
"While through the ambient air,
there bursts a sound
Of wild bird, singing,
as they wing on high.
And soon the prairies flash
wkh countless gems,
The blades of grass
encrusted with a weight
Of jewels richer than
a royal crown,
The wild flcVrs bending
wtth a priceless freight.
At last above the jewelled
plain appears
The dazzling, regal ruler
of the day,
And every bush seems
like the one of old
'Where God was,
and the plain a place to pray.
WQHam Reed Dunroy.
"I just hate this war talk," said Mrs.
Spudds. "It takes up so much room in
the paper that there isn't any room left
to tell what 'women are going to wear
this spring."
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